


Dreams Come True

by Star_Going_Supernova



Series: Inky Eyes, Golden Heart [1]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Demons, Fluff, Gen, Non-Graphic Mention of Blood, Rituals, but no sacrifices, look at that Joey isn't horrible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-01-26 09:46:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12554700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Going_Supernova/pseuds/Star_Going_Supernova
Summary: Joey summons a demon, intending to make a deal to bring Bendy, Alice, and Boris to life. It doesn't go the way he expected.





	1. Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> This was a totally random, out-of-the-blue idea I had very late last night. 
> 
> So today, I thought: why not?

Joey had been called many things in the course of his life. Insane. Troublemaker. Little rebel. Hell-raiser. Mad, and not in the angry way. The list went on and on.

But there was only one person he’d ever known that said any of those words with a smile, a laugh, in a delighted or fond tone of voice, or followed by some variant of _count me in!_ And that was only one of the many reasons Joey Drew counted himself lucky to have a best friend like Henry Ross. 

Anyone could look at the two of them, contrasting in every way— from height to hair color to smile to way of addressing those in authority— and think that Henry must be run ragged from Joey’s crazy antics. They’d never guess that most of the time, Joey would just barely voice an inadvisable idea only for Henry to immediately encourage him to do it, willing to go along with him every step of the way. 

For as good at aiding-and-abetting as he was, Henry was equally skilled at getting them out of trouble by playing innocent. Joey had long since lost count of how many times his friend had turned on the puppy-dog eyes and said, “Golly, sir, we weren’t trying to be outta line. It was just an accident.” 

And for years upon years, people bought it, hook-line-and-sinker. 

Henry might tell others that he’d based Bendy the Dancing Demon off Joey, but Joey knew better. Anyone who’d met them could tell that the antics the little guy got up to often matched Joey’s own to a T, but only one of the two friends could escape the consequences of pulling gags and such, and it sure wasn’t Joey.

The unconditional support he received from Henry meant that there wasn’t much Joey wouldn’t tell him. Having met as children, survived the worst bullies high school had to throw at them, mutually dragged each other through the longest nights of college animation classes, and stood as constant supports to one another as their plans for a studio finally took off, the two boys had long since been inseparable. Secrets were shared, hopes and dreams were whispered back and forth, and on the few occasions that Henry _had_ needed to talk Joey out of something, he’d done so in a way that made it impossible for Joey stay angry with him. 

All of which came together to form one big ball of guilt in the pit of Joey’s stomach as he thought about how he wasn’t simply neglecting to mention his current activities to his friend, but deliberately hiding said activities from Henry. 

The fact that he was staring down at a demonic summoning circle wasn’t helping matters. 

If he was asked to defend his motivations, Joey would explain how, if something did go wrong— he _was_ dealing with demons here— for once, he refused to drag Henry down with him. 

Which was an uncomfortably literal consequence that he might potentially face. 

Why even risk it, then? Because Joey watched how hard Henry worked as the studio’s head animator; and Joey saw how much Henry adored the characters he drew, day after day, regardless of if he’d been the one to create them; and Joey knew— _he knew, okay?_ — that he so often took more from his friend than he gave back, and it killed him that Henry just laughed it off or said it was okay, that it didn’t matter. 

Did the idea of bringing cartoon characters to life through demonic means appeal to his reckless side? Of course it did. 

But even more than that, he could just imagine the look on Henry’s face if he managed it. And that was worth more than any feeling of success this might bring him. Joey would give Henry something amazing back if it was the last thing he ever did. 

After checking over the pentagram in the book with the one drawn from a mixture of ink and his own blood, Joey struck a match. One by one, he lit the candles at each peak of the star.

Palms sweating, he spoke the incantation inscribed at the bottom of the page, careful to say each word clearly. 

He only had one shot at this. 

Shattering glass echoed around the room, lightbulbs exploding all at once, but he didn’t let them break his concentration. The candles flared brighter, pushing the new darkness back and allowing him to see his book just fine.

Joey’s racing heartbeat grew louder in his ears. It was a simple summoning spell, designed to extend an invitation to the nearest demon. There was nothing to be afraid of…

He finished chanting, watching as the blood in the lines of the pentagram rose to the surface. They strained upwards, breaking free of the ink to float in beads through the air. 

It was working—

The door burst open behind him. “Hey, Joey, I gotta—” 

Joey whipped around at the sound of the metal knob colliding with the wall. His eyes widened at the sight of Henry. 

Henry shut up real quick, his teeth clacking together with how hard he snapped his mouth closed. Joey could feel the heat of the small flames return to normal, could hear the quiet splats of blood dropping back to the floor. 

He glanced over his shoulder. The summoning circle was still empty. It hadn’t worked. 

Joey would deal with that in a moment; for now, he lurched to his feet, hands held out towards his friend— though the effect was ruined by the pentagram-covered book clenched in his left. “It’s not what it looks like!”

Henry squinted at him. “So… it’s _not_ a demonic ritual?” 

“No! I mean, _yes_ , but— it’s not what you think!” 

Frowning, Henry crossed his arms over his chest. “Joey,” he said, “if it’s not what I think, then you better explain, ’cause I don’t want any misunderstandings between us.”

Mind racing, Joey tried to think up a good excuse; unfortunately, Henry had always been better at that between the two of them. 

He finally sighed. With a defeated shrug, Joey admitted, “I guess it’s exactly what it looks like. I was trying to summon a demon to make a deal. I promise, Henry, it wasn’t anything bad, though, I just—”

“Gosh, Joey! You really had me scared for a second there! But since it sounds like you know what you’re doing, why’d you lie?”

Joey blinked. “You mean. You’re not mad?”

“Course not! Now, if you’d been trying to do something else and still ended up like this, _then_ I’d have to chew you out. Summoning demons can be dangerous, even when done right.”

“Yeah,” Joey looked over his shoulder again. “I suppose it’s for the best that it didn’t work.”

“Didn’t work?” Joey blinked in surprise at how incredulous Henry sounded. “What d’ya mean it didn’t work? I’m here, ain’t I?” 

“You’re here… now wait just a minute! You mean to tell me a demon’s possessing my friend?” Joey frantically searched Henry’s eyes, trying to find a visible sign that something was wrong. 

This was the exact opposite of what he’d wanted! Joey hadn’t told Henry about this to keep him safe, not so he could be possessed by the very demon Joey was trying to summon!

Unaware that he was beginning to hyperventilate, Joey startled when Henry seemed to suddenly appear directly in front of him in the span of a single blink. He gripped Joey’s shoulders and gave him a shake.

“Joey! Calm down, you dolt, I’m not possessed by anything. I promise, all right? I’m fine, we’re both fine.” Henry kept talking until Joey’s breathing returned to normal. “There. Feel better now?” 

Joey nodded. 

“You sure?” Henry asked, cracking a small smile. 

“Yeah. I don’t get it, though. If you aren’t possessed, what’d you mean?”

“You basically sent a message to the nearest demon, a welcoming little thing. Sooo, here I am! You wanted to make a deal, right?”

Joey stared at Henry. He couldn’t _possibly_ mean what Joey thought he meant. There was no way that—

“You mean to tell me that Henry Ross, my best friend, is a demon?”

It was Henry’s turn to stare at Joey. “You sound surprised,” he said. “Why do you sound surprised?” 

“Why am I surprised? Why wouldn’t it be a surprise to find out that the man I’ve known for most of my life is a literal fire-and-brimstone type of demon!” 

“Because you knew!”

Joey shook his finger at Henry. “No, no! I would remember finding that out, I think!” 

Henry sputtered. “Well, you— you sure acted like you knew! Whenever I wink at you after telling someone that Bendy’s based on you, you always wink back! And, and— when I leave sometimes to make deals with people, you always pat my shoulder and wish me luck!”

“I didn’t know you meant demonic deals!” Joey shouted at the ceiling. 

Just as loud, Henry yelled back, “You’ve made deals with me before, you oaf! What sort of deals did you think?”

“What do you _mean_ I’ve made deals with you before! I think I would remember selling my soul!” 

Henry flailed his arms around. “Not every deal requires a soul for payment, you bigot!” 

Joey threw the book down with a thud. “ _How would I know!_ ”

Letting out a wordless screech, Henry glared at him. Joey glared back. There was a long moment of silence where even the normal ambient sounds of the studio seemed to have vanished. They escalated into squinting at each other.

Henry blinked.

“Ha!” Joey cried, pointing at him. “I win!” 

Pouting, Henry said, “You probably cheated somehow.”

“Says the literal demon?”

When Henry didn’t respond right away, Joey worried that it might be too soon to joke about. How soon was too soon when you find out that your best friend was probably born in hell?

“Says the literal demon,” Henry finally repeated. “Did— you really didn’t know?”

Joey shook his head. “Not a clue. How does a demon suddenly become friends with a boring old human, though?” 

“You are the least boring human I’ve ever met, Joey Drew,” Henry said, smiling widely. “But I suppose that’s a story for some other time. After all, you did want to make a deal.”

Perking up, Joey crossed the room to his desk where Henry’s own character model sheets were carefully laid out. His friend followed after him. 

“This is what I wanted, Henry,” he gestured at the drawings of Bendy, Alice, and Boris. “I want to bring them to life.”

“Why?” 

Joey turned to look at him. Henry’s head was tilted in genuine confusion. Anyone else would’ve gotten right into the speech about Joey being a madman, insane, not knowing when to quit. Instead, without judgement of any kind, Henry simply wanted to know more. 

In full honesty, Joey said, “For you, mostly. I know I can be difficult, and that I take more than I give. I guess I just wanted to give you something for once.” 

“Aw, Joey,” Henry slung an arm around his shoulders, forcing Joey to tilt a little for his shorter friend. “You already give me more than I know what to do with. That being said, though…” 

Henry reverently touched the page with Bendy’s turnaround. 

“You’ve come to the right demon.”

A smile crept across Joey’s face. “We can do it, then? We really can?”

Practically vibrating in excitement, Henry shook Joey’s shoulder. “We can and we will! Tonight, we’ll iron out the details, cover any and all loopholes, and ensure it’s the best deal a demon the likes of me can make! Tomorrow— oh, tomorrow, Joey! Can’t you just see it now?”

Joey could indeed see it, as clearly as if he was there himself. The studio’s stars would be living, breathing creatures, brought to life off the page not just by a demon, but by their very own creator! He could only imagine how Henry must have been feeling at the thought; one of his reasons for trying to pull this off in the first place was the look of undisguised longing that Henry’d often given his characters, Bendy in particular. 

And no wonder, Joey thought, what with how similar Henry and Bendy seemed. They might be demons, but as far as Joey was concerned, they both had hearts of gold. 

“I can, my friend,” he finally said. His focus wasn’t on the drawings, though, like Henry’s was. No, he was watching the bright, joyous light in Henry’s eyes, like he’d just been told his dreams were coming true. 

And you know what? For all Joey knew, maybe they were.

 


	2. Heart of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing: Henry's half-demon form! 
> 
> Also, we're getting closer to having some living toons running amuck!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, I continued it. I'm not going to have a consistent posting schedule with this one, mostly because it's not outlined like The Art of Being Alive. I do have some ideas for it though, so it's not over yet! 
> 
> In fact, I'm going to be posting a short Halloween fic that takes place in this universe (hopefully) later today!

Joey descended a final flight of stairs to a hallway, with his destination at the end. He could still feel Sammy’s glare burning into his back, despite having passed the music director several minutes before. As potent of a look as it was, unfortunately for Sammy, some secrets had to remain secrets.

Exactly what Joey was doing in the unused portion of the basement, or just where Henry had been disappearing off to for the past few days being some such secrets.

Sticking the only existing key in the lock, Joey turned it until he heard the telltale click. Pushing the door open, Joey squeezed through the small space he allowed himself and quietly shut it behind him. 

Some people might say that Joey Drew had little to no consideration for others, and those particular folks wouldn’t believe their eyes if they could see how careful he was being at the moment not to disturb the room’s occupant. But then, Henry had always been an exception, even before Joey learned the truth about his long-time friend. 

Towards the back of the spacious chamber, dimly lit by haphazardly strewn candles, Henry himself sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by a pentagram far more intricate than the one Joey had used to inadvertently summon him. On the left side of the room, a table and pair of chairs rested against the wall, while the right boasted a long workbench. An unimaginable number of drawings were tacked up on the walls wherever there was room; only a small number were the character model sheets Joey had at the beginning of this venture. Most were made by Henry while he was down here, serving as a continual reminder of what Bendy and the gang were meant to act like. 

Deliberately stepping lightly, so as not to break Henry’s concentration on his task, Joey approached the table, armed with a meal far larger than even the two of them should be able to finish. But then, creating life out of nothing was no easy task; Henry needed all the nourishment he could get, and Joey was more than happy to provide it. 

At least it helped him feel like he was being useful _somehow_. After the deal had been made, everything had been left up to Henry to sort out. 

If there was one thing that had made Joey even more excited than the prospect of the toons being brought to life, it was seeing Henry’s partial demon form for the first time. As patient as always, Henry had stood still with a fond smile on his face as Joey circled him, eager to take in the changes. The truly marvelous part, he’d discovered, was that there wasn’t actually all that much of a visual leap between the Henry he’d known for years, and the demon lurking below the surface.

Henry’s demon form— or at least, the halfway version— didn’t look at all like Joey had expected it to. His skin became somewhat translucent, allowing his dimly glowing veins to show through with the slightest tint of cobalt. Up his neck and across his shoulders, ridges formed, sticking out almost like scales or spines. They were the same blue as his human eyes, though the points deepened into a darker ocean shade. 

His ears, though slightly elongated, weren’t pointed. In fact, the difference was hard to notice at all, since Henry’s dark brown hair naturally fell over the tips. Above them, in almost the exact same place as Alice Angel’s, pearly horns stretched up and around towards the back of his head. 

Henry’s face remained largely the same. Cracks snaked down his cheeks, black as night, like some twisted amalgamation of dripping tears and fractures of Henry’s flesh. Other than those, and a pair of noticeable fangs protruding from his mouth, he was still recognizably _Henry_. But then, that might have something to do with Joey never having seen his eyes. A strip of deep purple fabric— almost void if Joey stared too long into it— wrapped around and around his head like bandages. 

It sounded like they were the most startlingly different part of him. Taking into consideration the presence of horns and the scale-like somethings, Joey had to assume that his eyes really were unnatural in a way that might provoke basic human instincts— like those to fear even that which they know. And Joey never, _ever_ wanted to look upon his friend’s visage and feel nothing but terror. 

Despite Joey’s worries about the obstruction, Henry claimed he could see just fine; it was for Joey’s own protection that he never saw Henry’s eyes when he was even a little bit transformed. Whatever they looked like— and Henry himself was silent on the subject— remained a mystery.

During that first transformation and again now, it all painted a remarkably strange picture, what with Henry still in his typical clothing— a soft sweater-vest and neat bowtie. That more than anything made it impossible for Joey to feel even the slightest hint of fear; Henry, even like this, was still himself. 

After setting out their lunch, Joey sat down to watch Henry work. Just like it was amazing to watch him animate their cartoons, there was something equally as magical as watching him work with his demonic powers. 

In front of Henry floated the very thing he’d been so meticulously working on since finalizing their deal three days ago. A combination of both Joey and Henry’s blood, mixed with the thickest ink Joey had ever seen, had been gradually taking on the shape of a cartoon heart. The physical form had been put together after an hour or so of Henry sculpting it to perfection; now, as he’d explained to Joey, was the hard part. 

He had to imbue this inanimate shape with life, without giving it pre-made life.

_(“Pre-made life?” Joey had asked._

_“Human sacrifices, Joey. Taking the life out of one being and forcing it to conform into the shape of another. My way takes longer, but I won’t let anyone die for Bendy and the others’ sakes.” The way Henry had said it made it clear; on this, his word was law._

_Joey had thought about it. Maybe, in another time and place, when his best friend wasn’t standing in front of him with horns curling out of his head and a Henry-approved heart in his hands, Joey would’ve wanted to take the faster way. But here and now?_

_“Heart of gold,” he’d said softly._

_Henry had looked up. “What was that?”_

_“Nothing. Just thinking about something I already knew.”_

_He’d given Joey a funny look— especially comical with the fabric covering his eyes— but hadn’t pressed.)_

The heart didn’t look any different to Joey in all the time Henry’d been working on it, but he trusted that whatever Henry was doing was working. 

It was ironic, Joey supposed, that the person he trusted most in the whole world to never lie to him was literally a demon.

“Afternoon, Joey,” 

He shook himself from his musings to find Henry rising out of his circle, the ink heart in hand. 

“Good afternoon, my friend. You must be hungry.” Joey smiled as he watched Henry gently set his creation on the workbench.

Henry chuckled. “A bit, yeah. But first, I got a question for ya.”

“Shoot,” Joey said, crossing his arms over the table. 

“Would you rather all three come to life at once, or—“ Henry plopped down into his chair, still in his partial transformation— “do you want to do this one at a time?”

Joey considered this as Henry began to eat. All at once meant they’d only have to go over things— explanations, possible rules, introductions— once. But one at a time would allow for them to focus on each toon to better meet their individual needs. 

“One at a time,” he finally decided. 

Henry beamed at him, fangs glinting in the candlelight. “I was hoping you’d say that. And that leads me to a follow-up question: should I bring Bendy to life tonight, or wait until tomorrow?”

Joey froze in the midst of picking up his sandwich. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he raised his eyes to where his friend’s oughta have been. “You mean…”

Henry’s smile widened and he leaned back in his chair, smug. 

Mock sternly, Joey pointed at his friend. “Henry Ross, don’t you dare play with me. Did you finish Bendy’s heart?”

“All that’s left for him is his body, which will only take the rest of the day. Hence: tonight or tomorrow?” 

Joey all but leapt out of his chair, knocking it over. Whooping, he yanked Henry to his feet and gave him a twirl around the room. 

“You did it! You really truly did it!” Joey cried over the sound of Henry’s laughter. 

Calming down, they stopped next to the workbench, standing over Bendy’s heart. 

“You did it,” Joey repeated, whispering. 

“ _We_ did it,” Henry said. “I never woulda done this on my own.”

Joey abruptly slapped a hand to his cheek. “Oh, gosh, what will the others think? What will they _say?_ Sammy will— Sammy will wring my neck for this, just you watch. He’s been right suspicious that something’s been going on and now he’s—”

 **“He will do no such thing.”**  

Shocked at the deep, layered voice coming from his friend, Joey turned to face Henry with wide eyes. 

Black smoke was curling up into the air over Henry’s head, seemingly coming from beneath the fabric wrapped around his face. 

“Henry? Are you all right?” 

 **“I’m—”** he took a deep breath; the nearest candle burst into dark blue flames. “I’m fine.” 

He glanced at Joey, seeing the raised eyebrow. “I am!” Henry said. “And it’s not like that’s the first time I’ve ever lost my temper at someone who meant you harm.”

“Who— no, _when—_ else did that happen?” 

Henry mumbled something.

“Could you repeat that, please?”

“I _said_ , back in high school. Remember that time the captain of the football team was about ready to use your head for punting practice?”

“Yeah.”

“And I punched him before he could?”

Joey frowned. “What’s so special about that? Not that I didn’t appreciate it, mind you.”

Henry’s mouth fell open and he stared at Joey for a long moment. “Joey,” he said, in that certain tone of voice that teachers use on particularly dense students, “I broke his face in six separate places, and my knuckles didn’t so much as bruise.”

“Now, see, I remember that. It’s why no one believed him when he said it was you.”

With a _see!_ gesture, Henry waited expectantly. When Joey only returned the look, he threw his hands into the air.

“Joey! I was easily half his weight and probably over a foot shorter than him! His feet left the ground when I socked him, he needed surgery for his jaw, and I didn’t so much as untuck my shirt! What about any of that reads as _normal human being_ to you?” 

Joey opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and finally seemed to put two and two together. 

“So that was your demon-self bleeding through?” 

“ _Yes!_ ” 

He did his best to recall the actual event. Unless he was mistaken, Henry’s voice had even gone dark and demonic before punching the bully. Which— now that Joey was thinking about it, he could remember hearing that tone quite a bit over the years, especially during high school. 

Gobsmacked, Joey said, “You’ve been doing that voice bit for years.”

“Oh gosh,” Henry leaned over the workbench, burying his face in his hands. “How did you only just notice that now? Do you see why I thought you knew? I wasn’t exactly _that_ subtle about it!” 

Joey crossed his arms and looked away. No, that _wasn’t_ a blush. Joey Drew didn’t flush in embarrassment like some love-struck teenage girl. “I thought your voice just cracked a lot.” 

Henry’s head slipped through his fingers to thunk against the wood. “You’re supposed to be _smart_ ,” he said despairingly. 

“Well— I— how about you explain why you let it slip so often, huh? Maybe I didn’t notice it, but at least I wasn’t the one sounding demonic left and right!”

“ _Joey_ , knowing yourself as you do, _try to imagine_ how hard it was to keep you safe sometimes.”

“You’re the one who supported my harebrained schemes more often than not!”

Henry stood back up and turned to Joey. Grabbing his shoulders, Henry leaned in close and said softly, “I’m not talking about those. I’m talking about times like when you told the captain of the football team that your ma could beat him with one hand tied behind her back. I’m talking about the time someone tried to mug you and you decided to jump on his back and strangle him. I’m talking about how you decided you deserved a driver’s license.” 

Whispering back, Joey said, “I’m a fantastic driver, you numbskull.” 

“No,” Henry shook his head. “You’re worse than Mrs. Richards from middle school.”

Joey gasped. “You take that back.”

Leaning even closer and speaking so quietly that Joey almost couldn’t hear him, Henry said, “ _Never_.” 

Straightening, Henry clapped his hands together, making Joey jump. “So! You didn’t say. Tonight or tomorrow?”

Much as he wanted to do it as soon as possible, Joey didn’t want Henry to overexert himself. Someone had to make sure he didn’t work his way into an exhaustion-induced coma, and it sure wasn’t going to be Henry.

“Tomorrow,” Joey decided. “ _After_ you’ve gotten some good sleep.”

Henry smiled and headed back to their abandoned lunch. “Then we have a heart, a plan, and by tonight, we’ll have a body to go with them.”

Joey nodded absently, staring down at the heart. It looked so unobtrusive, yet it made him feel like he was about to burst from excitement. He had to force himself to step back.

As he returned to the table, something occurred to Joey. “Now wait just a second, Mr. He-will-do-no-such-thing! Not two months ago, Sammy socked me in the jaw so hard, he fractured a couple fingers. Where were you then?” 

Henry choked on his mouthful. “Ah, well, you see, Joey— us demons, uh, have a code of conduct, and there’s a very delicate give-and-take between what I can interfere with and…” He watched Joey raise an eyebrow at him. “And you aren’t believing a word I’m saying, are you?”

Joey shook his head. 

Shrugging, Henry said, “In that case— I felt Sammy was totally justified in his actions. You _did_ scrap one of the songs he’d been working on for over two weeks. If you did that with one of my animations, I’d probably wanna get you good, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. Guys. I need a name for this AU. I don't want to be boring and just call it the demon!Henry AU. Help me, please. If you have any ideas for what I can call this, please please please let me know. If I end up going with your suggestion, I'll definitely credit you. Don't fail me now!


	3. No Illusion, It's Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the floor, Bendy took his first breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you know/figure out where I took Henry’s middle name from, I will be so wildly impressed. Also, the chapter title is a line from the song ‘Find the Keys’ which I absolutely love. The video is absolutely gorgeous, and if you haven’t listened to/watched it yet, I recommend it.
> 
> And yay! The series has an official name now! Credit to BookishSiren for coming up with it! Everyone else that offered some top-notch ideas, you'll probably see them as chapter titles later on! Thanks for all the great suggestions, you guys are awesome!

Joey took one step inside the studio the next morning and immediately knew something was up. He didn’t know how, and he was no more able to put it into words. He just did. But even as he tip-toed around, he found nothing out of place. 

Eventually, the only room he hadn’t checked was— _the basement_. If there was someone down there, employee or not, and they’d done something to Bendy’s heart… oh, Joey would never forgive himself.

And Henry. Henry would be devastated. 

Joey rushed down the steps, no longer caring if he was heard— in fact!— all the better for the intruder to know he was coming. 

There was light haloing the door, cracked ajar an inch or so. He all but threw it open, ready to unleash hell on whoever was on the other side.

Like a popped balloon, though, Joey deflated. 

Surrounded by candles, Henry sat with Bendy’s heart in his hands. At Joey’s dramatic entrance, he looked up wide-eyed and innocent despite the picture he made, what with a technically dead body resting on the floor in front of him, within the most intricate pentagram yet. 

“You’re early,” Joey said, clutching his shirt over his pounding heartbeat. “Henry, for goodness sake, I thought there was an intruder or something!” 

“Sorry! I— you probably felt my aura when you got here. I’ve been doing a pretty bad job of containing it, and that sort of thing doesn’t exactly inspire happy thoughts.”

“No kidding. I barely made it through the front door before I was convinced that something was wrong.” Joey crossed the room to set his bag down on the table. “Why are you here, anyhow?” he asked.

Henry focused his attention down at the potential for life he cradled. “I was too excited, I guess. Couldn’t sleep hardly a wink.”

Planting his hands on his hips, Joey glared at his friend. “I thought I told you to get some good rest! You said this next part takes a lot out of you, and I don’t want you droppin’ unconscious on me as soon as Bendy wakes up!”

“I did! Rest, that is— just not, uh, by sleeping,” Henry said, shifting on the ground and refusing to meet Joey’s gaze.

“Henry Oliver Ross.”  
  
“Oh gosh,” Henry flinched, “not the full name, please, Joey.”

“Tell me where you were last night, young man.”  
  
“My ma would be so proud of you, y’know that?”

Joey crossed his arms over his chest and began tapping his foot, staring Henry down. He wouldn’t stop until he’d gotten a straight answer out of his friend, and he knew that Henry knew that. Avoiding the question wouldn’t save him now.

After sneaking a few glances at Joey, Henry finally caved, “Okay, all right! I went out and made a deal or two! Look, I found a couple different kids who each procrastinated on a project— y’know, like you used to?— and were willing to give me some energy in exchange for finishing it for them. I even wiped their memories of me, so they don’t think they can use demon deals to squeak by again.”

“See, now was that so hard?”

Henry stared at Joey. “I’m truly disturbed by how well you’re pretending to be a parent. I feel like my entire life is a lie.”

“Hmph,” Joey said, turning up his nose, “I am _perfectly_ capable of being a mature and responsible adult, thank you very much. Now,” he plopped down on the floor opposite Henry, with Bendy’s body between them, “can we please please _please_ bring our cartoon character to life with magick?”

Laughing, Henry nodded. “We sure can, Joey,” he said. “You ready?”

A ball of nerves abruptly tangled up in Joey’s stomach. He looked at the body, scarily lifeless; at the heart, so small but so amazing; at the wall of sketches, showing just what it might be like to have a living toon in the studio; and at Henry, who smiled encouragingly at him, eyes crinkled and shining. 

The nerves unwound as though they’d never been there at all. How could Joey be anything but ready, when Henry was lookin’ at him like that, by his side like always?

He gave his friend a single, sharp nod. Knowing each other for as long as they had, no words were needed.

Momentarily setting the heart down, Henry closed his eyes and lifted the purple fabric from where it’d been balled up in his lap. He wound it around and around his head, tying it in the back. Joey watched the horns grow from his head, curling pearly and elegant in a way he’d never expected to see on a demon. Henry’s skin paled until Joey could track his veins with ease, his lifeblood glowing softly, just enough to be unnatural. From below the makeshift blindfold, the black cracks seeped down his cheeks, tear-like. 

Henry held the heart until it lifted into the air as he began to whisper words, words that echoed unintelligibly through Joey’s head like thunder and lightning. The words grew louder and sharper, unmistakably demonic at their core as the shadows in the room bent towards them and the flames of the candles lifted off their wicks to hover. 

Joey would almost swear that he could see something from behind the fabric covering Henry’s eyes. He looked down at Bendy’s body, knowing that his friend wouldn’t want him to try and figure out what he was hiding. 

It took him a moment, but Joey slowly became aware of a pounding beat in the room— a familiar ba-dump ba-dump, ba-dump— almost like a heartbeat… 

Eyes widening in realization, he slowly raised his head to the ink heart floating between them. It pulsed in time with the noise. 

It was alive.

Henry’s hands suddenly raised back up to surround the heart without touching it. Even as Joey’s vision swam from the overwhelming demonic aura coming from his friend, he watched as lines opened all along Henry’s forearms, forming runes and incomprehensible words, dripping blood that traveled upwards to gather at his palms. 

Like the heart was the eye of a storm or the center of a tornado, the blood began to fly through the air, whipping around it faster and faster, until Joey couldn’t even see it anymore. 

Henry’s hands slammed together, crushing the heart and orbiting blood between them. Joey jumped in place.

On the floor, Bendy took his first breath. 

Joey watched in helplessly frozen amazement as Henry leaned down over the toon. 

“C’mon, bud,” he whispered, carefully sliding his palm under Bendy’s head as his exhalations stuttered.

One of Bendy’s hands twitched. Henry was quick to gently grab it, raising it to his own chest. 

“Like this,” Henry said, exaggerating his breathing. Bendy’s fingers tightened around his creator’s.

Joey didn’t interrupt as Henry slowly, patiently, guided Bendy through the final stages of coming to life. Movement, senses, opening his eyes for the first time— Henry didn’t let Bendy think for a moment that he was going at it alone. It was a strange but amazing picture: the man Joey’d known for most of his life, looking the part of the demon he was, hovering over a smaller, inkier demon of his own creation like a worried mother, helping him get his bearings. 

Henry scooped Bendy up into a sitting position, supporting his back and never releasing Bendy’s hand, which was clutching all the tighter at Henry’s. 

“See him?” Henry asked, pointing at Joey. Bendy nodded, pie-cut eyes wide. “That’s Joey. He’s the reason you’re here.”

Bendy’s mouth finally spread into a small grin. “Hello, Mr. Joey. Nice to meet you,” he said.

With a joyous laugh, Joey beamed at the little toon. “Please, Bendy, I’m just Joey. And it’s absolutely wonderful to meet you as well. But don’t pay any attention to him,” he gestured at Henry, who made an affronted noise, “because I’m hardly the only reason you’re here. He’s your creator.”

Bendy twisted to gaze up to Henry above him, eyes widening even more in awe. “You’re my Creator?” he asked.

“I suppose I am, aren’t I? My name’s Henry. I’m a demon, like you.”

After blinking a few times, Bendy snickered, looking exactly like his mischievous self in the cartoons. “That’s a funny name for a demon,” he said, smile growing when Joey threw his head back in laughter.

Utterly deadpan, Henry raised an eyebrow down at him. “I don’t really think you have a leg to stand on, _Bendy_.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bendy nodded. “Touché,” he said. “To be fair though, if you’re my Creator, then you’re the one who named me that.”

“Ooh, he’s got you there,” Joey said, chortling.

Both demons turned to face him with an unimpressed look. Joey couldn’t believe it; Henry had an identical son. 

• • • • •

Much as he didn’t want to, Joey did eventually have to head back upstairs to supervise his studio, leaving Henry and Bendy alone for a time.

Sammy gave him the EyeTM whenever he caught sight of Joey, Norman asked after Henry and it took all the self-control Joey had to not tell the man the truth when he looked disappointed that Henry wouldn’t be around for the rest of the day, and Wally had backed slowly out of Joey’s office after Joey’s reaction to the news that he’d lost his keys again was to smile and wish him luck with finding them. 

It was a nice change, in all honesty, from the usual. 

Late afternoon had rolled around by the Joey felt comfortable leaving his employees to their own devices, and he was quick to disappear back down into the depths of the basement.

The saying _out of sight, out of mind_ had never been more incorrect, as far as he was concerned. He’d spent every spare moment thinking about the two demons doing who-knew-what below his feet. Were they getting along? Was the ritual holding? Did Bendy have any actual powers of his own, or did Henry’s magick not work that way? 

Joey opened the door and stopped in his tracks. 

There was a couch, forest green and very comfortable looking, right where the pentagram had been. Strewn across the floor surrounding it were books of all shapes and sizes— children’s books, encyclopedias, what seemed to be a number of scrapbooks— and no less than four empty plates covered in crumbs. On the workbench, a radio that Joey’d never seen before played a soft melody, something he recognized from their cartoon. The ceiling— if it was indeed still the ceiling— had become the night sky, thousands of brilliant pinprick-stars twinkling over the room. 

But the pièce de résistance was, without a doubt, the two figures on the sofa. 

Henry had returned to his human form at some point, going by the purple fabric bunched up on the floor by one of the scrapbooks. His head was slightly tilted away, his mouth hanging open the barest bit— but once Joey was closer, he confirmed that his horns were gone and his teeth were only human-sharp again. 

As comfy as he looked, settled deep into the fluffy couch, he was nothing compared to Bendy.

The little demon was sprawled over Henry’s chest— loose limbed and relaxed— with the man’s shirt clenched tight in his gloved fists. Little Zs floated up and away from his head, fading away the further they went, and his facial features were smaller in sleep, giving Bendy a gentler, softer appearance. One of Henry’s hands rested lightly on the toon’s back, rising and falling with each deep, slow breath.

Backing slowly out of the room to avoid disturbing the peacefully sleeping occupants, Joey resolved to check in on them later. He’d give Henry a stern talkin’-to as well; apparently he hadn’t been as well rested as he’d claimed. 

Leaving the two demons to their nap, Joey returned to his office to finish up some paperwork he’d been avoiding. He thought about how lucky he was that things were turning out as well as they were. 

It was, in all honesty, an idea that’d been bothering him for several days. Joey hadn’t known that Henry was a demon— much less that he was so ridiculously kind-hearted for a creature of supposed evil and cruelty— yet he’d still set up the ritual, fully intending on making a deal with whatever showed up in his summoning circle. What would’ve happened if Henry was only human, and a more demon-like demon had answered his call? 

Would everything have turned out the way it had? Would Henry and Bendy be sleeping a floor or two below him, happy and content and at peace? Would Joey himself feel as proud of what he’d done, if it had cost him something greater than what he’d given Henry? 

Maybe. Maybe not. But whatever the answer was, Joey could at least rest assured that it didn’t matter; as far as he was concerned, he’d gotten the best case scenario.

Several hours later, when the rest of the studio’s employees had left for the night, Joey’s productive concentration broke when he registered movement at the door. 

He looked up and immediately covered his mouth with his hand to hide a smile. Henry, obviously just woken, stumbled in with Bendy limp in his arms. His hair stuck up all over the place, and he must’ve turned his head after Joey’d left, because there were imprints from the couch covering his right cheek. 

“Do me a favor?” Henry asked, coming around Joey’s desk. Without waiting for a response, he plopped Bendy into Joey’s arms and stepped back. “Just hold him for a minute, there’s a kid not far from here lookin’ to make a deal and I don’t want a different demon stealing his soul. I’ll be right—”

Henry twisted sharply on his heel and vanished into thin air, taking the rest of his sentence with him. 

Before Joey had time to truly wonder what had just happened, Bendy— evidently more awake than Henry’d thought— asked quietly, “Will I be able to do that someday?”

Joey shook his head, his mind still rejecting the literal disappearing act his friend had just pulled. “I dunno, kid. Has he told you whether you have any demon abilities?”

Bendy shifted into a better position, snuggling against Joey’s chest. “He said he could feel my aura, but that it might be a while before any real powers manifest.” 

“Well,” Joey said, absently rubbing his toon’s back, “I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we? Henry’ll teach ya whatever he can.” 

On the verge of drifting off again, Bendy hummed. “He’s good,” he mumbled. “I can feel it. It’s familiar.”

“He _is_ a demon, like you.”

Bendy shook his head. “No. S’not that. I can’t feel myself. Somethin’ else. But he’s good.”

Even as he felt the little guy’s breath deepen into sleep, Joey nodded to the empty room. “Yeah. He is, kid. He’s the best.”

• • • • •

Joey’s head jerked back up after nearly nodding off again. Gosh, sleep sounded amazing right now. He’d planned on waiting for Henry to return so they could figure out what they were gonna do with Bendy— it seemed cruel to leave him alone for his first night in the world— but maybe he could just mosey on down to that comfy looking couch in the basement and get some shut eye. 

He blinked, long and slow, and Henry was suddenly standing right in front of his desk. 

A little, seldom heard logical voice in his head protested that such a thing was impossible, but his eyes basically gestured at what he was seeing, prompting the rest of his body to give a violent startle almost five seconds after Henry had appeared. 

Henry snorted. “Wow, delayed reaction much?”

Joey opened his mouth to give a sleepy— and likely nonsensical— retort, when his gaze drifted to something in Henry’s hands. “Is that… ice cream?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. The kid has a chemistry test tomorrow and wanted me to shove all the information into his head because he wasn’t any good at studying. I woulda done it if he was older, but implanting knowledge like that into a mind as young as his can be really dangerous.”

“What’d you do, then?” Joey asked around a yawn.

“I helped him study the good old fashioned way, with notecards and highlighters and everything. He pulled out some ice cream while we were going over the periodic table and said I could keep whatever was left after we’d finished.” Henry hefted the gallon carton like a trophy. 

Joey squinted. It was cookies and cream, Henry’s favorite. He really lucked out. Except— “There can’t be much left.”

Henry beamed. “Nah, we didn’t get to this one. We mowed right through the first four, though.”

“Oh, gosh,” Joey said, curling in on himself for his own protection. He might not’ve seen everything his best friend could do with his demonic powers, but Joey was sure he’d always consider a Henry-with-a-sugar-high to be the most dangerous version of the man. 

Henry laughed as though he knew exactly what Joey was thinking about— heck, maybe he did; who knew what demons were capable of.

“I think it’s time you hit the hay, Joey. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Feel like it, too,” Joey admitted. “What about you? I don’t feel entirely comfortable with you being awake and sugar-crazy without adult supervision.”

Stepping around the desk, Henry yanked Joey to his feet and twirled him around. Vertigo hit Joey hard and he toppled over, right onto the basement couch.  

He looked around. The couch wasn’t magically in his office; they were in the basement. He moaned and curled up, Bendy still sound asleep in his arms. 

“I’m gonna use this energy to catch up on my animations,” Henry whispered near Joey’s head. “And I promise, if I accidentally set the studio on fire again, you’ll be the first to know.”

“That’s not funny. Henry, do you hear me— that’s not—” Joey twisted his head to glance over his shoulder, but his friend was gone. 

“Henry Ross,” he whispered furiously into the silence, “you better not set our studio on fire again. Three times is bad enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these boys.
> 
> Was it fluffy enough for you? Let me know your favorite bits and pieces, and tell me if you think I should bring Alice or Boris to life next!


	4. Creator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bendy hadn’t known he’d been dead until he was suddenly alive. He took his first shaky breath in the world and knew nothing but cold, pressing darkness. His body shuddered in the loneliness, and his breathing seemed on the verge of petering out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, it's been five months since I last updated this story! Good golly! 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is mostly parts of the previous chapter told from Bendy's POV. Hope you enjoy!

Bendy hadn’t known he’d been dead until he was suddenly alive. He took his first shaky breath in the world and knew nothing but cold, pressing darkness. His body shuddered in the loneliness, and his breathing seemed on the verge of petering out.

And then, a voice—warm and bright—whispered to him, “C’mon, bud.”

Something slid gently beneath his head. He wanted to get closer to that voice. He wanted to know it.

Bendy tried to move, to go to it, but he couldn’t quite feel his body. In fact, all that happened was a little twitch of his fingers. He wanted to cry; he’d never be able to find the voice now.

But then the hand that had twitched was engulfed in a larger one that tingled with protective power. It sent energy coursing through his chest, even as his hand was lifted to rest against something soft that hid the core of that wonderful spirit.

“Like this,” the voice said. The softness expanded and deflated, and Bendy realized this person was helping him learn to be alive. His grip tightened, and a still unknown part of him pulsed with the instinct to never let go.

The voice laughed, rich but soft. When it spoke again, it wasn’t really speaking, because Bendy didn’t really hear it. The words burrowed straight into his mind.

_That’s okay. You don’t have to let go yet._

Curled around him, impenetrable as a shield but gentle as a blanket, the not-voice coaxed his soul into properly filling his body, even as the voice quietly instructed him through physical firsts.

Bendy opened his eyes to see a man leaning over him, a cloth winding around the upper portions of his face.

“Hey there,” he whispered. It was the voice.

No matter how much he wanted to respond, Bendy’s throat just wouldn’t cooperate. He finally made a frustrated little noise. The man chuckled.

“Let me help you with that, kiddo,” he said as the power within Bendy shifted to focus on his vocal cords. “While I’m doing that, can you see okay? Nothing’s fuzzy, right?”

Bendy nodded up at him.

The man squeezed Bendy’s hand. “And you can feel that?” Another nod. “Can you squeeze back?”

Bendy did.

The beaming smile on the man’s face, so full of happiness and pride, made Bendy feel warm from head to toe. He wanted to ask exactly who the man was, to already somehow mean so much to him, but then he was carefully being lifted into a sitting position. Fearing that he would be let go, he clutched the man’s hand tighter.

The not-voice, the one that spoke directly into his head, whispered, _It’s all right. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere._

Good, Bendy thought, contentment and belonging spreading through him.

“See him?” the man asked. He gestured to a different man, who had been sitting silently on Bendy’s other side.

Wondering who he was, Bendy nodded.

“That’s Joey. He’s the reason you’re here.”

Bendy smiled a little as the power in his throat retreated, allowing him to speak for the first time. “Hello, Mr. Joey. Nice to meet you.”

Mr. Joey beamed at him. It didn’t quite produce the same warm feeling as when the first man had given him a similar look, but it still felt good. There was something about the man’s statement that, though true, made Bendy think it wasn’t the whole truth.

If Mr. Joey had been a toon, Bendy couldn’t help but think, looking at him, he’d have stars in his eyes from how happy he looked.

“Please, Bendy, I’m just Joey,” he said. “And it’s absolutely wonderful to meet you as well. But don’t pay any attention to him—” he gestured at the man holding onto Bendy— “because I’m hardly the only reason you’re here. He’s your creator.”

His Creator? Bendy turned as wide of eyes as he was capable of making up to the man with the powerful voice. “You’re my Creator?” he asked. Oh, please say yes, he thought, please please _please_.

“I suppose I am, aren’t I? My name’s Henry. I’m a demon, like you.”

Excitement spread through Bendy. He was just like his Creator!

_Henry_. Now, he didn’t know what sort of name a demon oughta have, but that one just didn’t match with the nearly overwhelming energy crackling like life and stardust in his Creator’s core.

So he said, “That’s a funny name for a demon.”

His smile widened when Joey burst out laughing. He had a nice laugh.

Tickling Bendy with his magick, Henry raised an eyebrow down at him. “I don’t really think you have a leg to stand on, _Bendy_.”

Forcing himself not to physically squirm at the feather-light touches, he merely narrowed his eyes and nodded. “Touché,” he said. “To be fair though, if you’re my Creator, then you’re the one who named me that.”

Henry’s not-voice boomed with laughter that sounded like the universe, if one could hear such things. Sheer force, directionless and natural, spun around the room like a hurricane. Bendy knew little of demons, but the small part of him that was one wanted to cower away from the unnatural strength that simply hung in Henry’s proximity.

Perhaps the main reason he felt no true fear was that the power shone untainted and bright and full of happiness and smiles and love. And besides, this was his Creator. Bendy would _never_ have to be afraid of him.

“Ooh, he’s got you there,” Joey said, chortling.

Bendy turned to face him with an unimpressed look, fully aware that he was mimicking Henry.

• • • • •

Joey left not long after that, and in the gentle quiet of the basement, Henry, returned to his human form, introduced Bendy to more aspects of life. He conjured up a radio, starting with something Bendy would already be familiar with.

Tapping along to the rhythm of a new song, Henry told Bendy, “My ma would play this in the kitchen on Sunday afternoons, and she’d dance around, flinging sugar and flour all over the place while we tried to make pie or cookies or something.”

Feet itchin’ to move, Bendy asked, “What sorta cookies?”

With an exaggerated wink, Henry spun on his heel and vanished. A tendril of his presence remained, fitting snuggly in Bendy’s clenched hand. Only a minute passed, not even enough time for the song to end, before Henry returned, balancing two plates in either hand. Each was piled with cookies.

“I didn’t expect ya to bring a whole store back with you!” Bendy said, bouncing up and down to try and see over the edge of the nearest plate.

The room shuddered with Henry’s glimmering not-laughter. It was full of something like awe, and Bendy wondered what could’ve caused his Creator to feel like that. He dared wish-hope-dream that it was because of him.

Somehow managing not to spill a single crumb, Henry plopped down to the floor and arranged the plates between himself and Bendy. Holding out his hand in offering, Henry merely said, “How else are we s’posed to figure out what kind of cookie’s your favorite?”

Bendy’s eyes sparkled and his grin widened. His Creator’s aura snapped and sparked like a living thing, burning with _something_. Something more, something bright, something almost familiar and so close and so beyond.

He reached out and took Henry’s hand.

• • • • •

Henry had said this was called a sugar high. Bendy liked it. He liked it even better that his Creator was just as sugar high as Bendy himself was.

They were playing a game that might’ve been hot potato, or catch, or even a very bizarre version of football had there been more than just the two of them. Henry had waved his hand at the ceiling and suddenly the wooden boards above them were replaced with a void of space full of glittering stars. Now, the actual game part, he was tossing Bendy up into the homemade galaxy and teleporting elsewhere in the room to catch him. On every pass through the constellations, Bendy held his hands out and dragged them through the constellations and supernovas, creating a symphony of sounds made of starlight.

Sometimes Henry would pretend like he wouldn’t catch Bendy, and that made the little demon shriek in joy—he knew Henry wouldn’t so much as let him touch the ground, no matter what—and in between passes, amidst their loopy giggles, Henry would tell Bendy which stars he’d touched.

“That was the Big Dipper,” he said before gearing up for another throw. He teleported, and a moment later caught Bendy again. “You heard that especially loud one? That was Epsilon Pegasi.”

“It was beautiful,” Bendy said, staring up into the vast night sky.

Henry nodded absently. “It’s a personal favorite of mine.”

Wiggling in his Creator’s hold, Bendy twisted around to see the small smile on Henry’s face. “Why?”

“Epsilon Pegasi was the first star I ever saw up close, in person. Sort of, anyway. Demons can’t handle space the way Celestials can.” He winked at Bendy. “But as with most things, there are loopholes to be exploited.”

Bendy giggled until a yawn suddenly stretched his mouth.

“Looks like someone’s sugar high is finally winding down,” Henry said. There was a faint pop from across the room, and only a moment later, he was sprawling along a plush couch, Bendy comfortably tucked against his chest.

As Bendy’s eyelids gradually drooped closed, Henry showed him some old scrapbooks with pictures of a much younger Henry and Joey. Surrounded by the warmth of his Creator’s aura and the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat, Bendy peacefully drifted off to sleep for the first time, accompanied by the silly stories of two childhood friends.

• • • • •

Later that night, after a nap, a deal, some ice cream, and whispered threats about _not_ setting the studio on fire, Joey locked the door behind him. Standing further into the parking lot, Henry pointed up at some of the stars overhead, Bendy listening raptly.

It was only as Joey joined them that Bendy seemed to realize exactly where they were. He looked around curiously. “Where are we going?” he asked.

Joey exchanged a smile with Henry, who tilted his head at him. Being best friends for as long as they had, he understood the meaning in the small gesture.

It was his honor to throw his arm around Henry’s shoulders, putting Bendy more or less between them, and say, “Where else could we be going, kiddo, but _home?_ ”

And Bendy? Well, Bendy’s little demonic aura lit up as his eyes widened. He reached one of his hands over so he was clutching a fistful of both men’s shirts and gazed up into Joey’s joyful eyes, crinkling in their corners. Henry’s aura was wrapped just as fully around Joey as it was around Bendy, and he was only just now fully realizing what that meant.

_Family_.

It was a bit of a dream come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that after this one, there's gonna be more of a timeskip between chapters, like I might jump to the reveal, and then to making Boris and Alice, and then to... well, I can't tell you what else is gonna happen in this story, because that would spoil it. >;P
> 
> If you guys have any ideas for future shenanigans, I'd love to hear them, either here or [on my tumblr](https://star-going-supernova.tumblr.com). :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Raindrops and References](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13803222) by [inkabelle_designs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkabelle_designs/pseuds/inkabelle_designs)




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